Empire of Snow
by Mizuni-no-neko
Summary: America lost his glasses a week ago in an encounter with everyone's favorite Russian. So now he's going on an archeological dig for them a la Indiana Jones. But they're in the hands of the person he least suspected. Sequel to Valentine's Angel. RusAme


I really hope Snow Archaeology counts as a winter activity. If not, then it should. Because it seems to me like it would be fun. But then again I'm an aspiring archaeologist and what I call fun other people probably think is weird OTL.

Sorry about derping on the next chapter of The Boy in the Painting *crais and flees*

Enjoy!

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America walked through the streets, the pavement shining like silver with golden pools being cast by the streetlamps every few feet. He stared up at the stars shining down from the heavens, twinkling down at him like they _knew_. He smiled up at them and waved. He felt a little bit silly and he was definitely glad that there was no one else out on the street to see him. But he coldn't help but act just a bit silly when the last week had been day after blissful day of laying in Russia's arms, kissing and talking and just _being_. It was over now, of course. Russia had gotten a call from his boss to hurry home and take care of business. America was sad to see him go, but he can't say that it had been unexpected.

They'd known it woudn't last forever, but that only made what time they could spend together before Russia had to go home so much sweeter. The kisses had lingered longer and the touches had been softer and more hot all at the same time because they knew that any moment it could end. One of them would get a call from their bosses or from someone they knew and they'd have to part ways. But duty called and the few moments they were able to grab together were so worth any pain of being apart. And they would see eachother again soon. Whether at the world meeting or whenever they could spare the time. It wasn't like when they'd been younger. They could hop on a plane and be together in a few hours rather than months on a ship.

But for now he was alone, wandering the streets and waving at the stars like a lunatic. But everything was so bright and beautiful tonight, like thee stars were lending their light to the entire world. Maybe he was seeing through rose-colored glasses, but he couldn't say he minded. Who could possibly want to go back to the normal humdrum world when this one was so vivid and wonderful? Everyone should be in love, it was the greatest thing on the planet! He hummed happily as he strolled down the darkened street, stopping momentarily in the spotlight of a street lamp to give an impromptu performance of Don't Stop Believing. It was usually something he'd only do when he was drunk off his ass, but he just felt like singing. There was just something about the way Russia made him feel that made it difficult not to burst out into song. He mused light-heartedly that he could have picked a better song, one that more approprately displayed his feelings. But he liked Don't Stop Believing, so societal standards could kiss his ass.

He thought back to Valentines day, a blush rising to his cheeks and a smile working it's way onto his face. That had probably been, hands down, the best day of his life. Sure there were other events that had been more important like VE day or Yorktown. But for him, not as a nation, but as a person, that Valentine's Day had been the happiest he'd ever been. It wasn't about his people or his freedom or saving someone else. It was about loving and being loved so much that he wished each kiss could go on forever and he'd never have to let Russia go. And to think the day had started out as a steaming pile of shit doomed to end in either his complete depression, or five to ten pounds gained in pure chocolatey escapism.

Of course, not everything about the day had been crackerjack. He'd managed to leave his glasses in the snow where they'd fallen while he was making snow angels. Well, they'd actually fallen when he did. But that made him sound clumsy as well as forgetful. And heroes weren't clumsy! And he wasn't forgetful...he just couldn't be bothered to worry about Texas when Russia needed to be saved from...not being kissed, or something. He'd figure out what he'd been saving Russia from at the time later.

The point was, that he'd gone all that time without even noticing that his glasses were gone. It just hadn't seemed all that important with Russia's lips on his and their breath comingling. His glasses had been the last thing on his mind when he'd gotten up and taken Russia home. In fact, he's pretty sure that if he _had_ thought of his glasses in passing, he probably would have ignored it and left them purposefully. Besides, Russia said he looked better without them. So take that, stupid glasses. (Why was he trying to defend himself to a pair of glasses anyway? It wasn't like the people of the State Texas were in any danger because he left his _glasses_ lying around. That would just be impractical. Do you know how many times he lost those things or broke the lenses?)

So here he was, strolling down the street in the middle night with a backpack containing his archeological tools as well as a flashlight and portable hair dryer. He would find his glasses and get home before the sun even came up! It would be great, and he could even treat it like a grand Indiana Jones-esque adventure. Though he really _really_ hoped there wouldn't be snakes. Getting bitten by a snake in the dark while digging around in the snow alone in a secluded location wasn't on his itinerary for this particular adventure. Get the glasses, go home, go to bed. That wouldn't be too hard to do without snakes, right? Right.

He turned off the road in roughly the same place he had the week before. Luckily, he travelled this way often enough that he was able to find the spot where he had crashed into the tree and he went from there, slingin ghis backpack onto a clar patch of ground he'd already scoured for his glasses. He dug out his tools: a spade, a brush, a pick for if any of the snow had turned into ice, and a burger for if he got hungry. He dug through the snow, canvasing the area in units and not moving on until he was sure his glasses weren't there.

He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice the crunch of snow underneath heavy boots behind him. When he was in the zone there was just no contacting him until whatever it was he was doing was done. The newcomer seemed to get this and stayed quiet, not speaking until America finished the unit he was working on.

"You will not find them." He stated, voice taking on a slightly sing-song quality.

America whipped around to tell whoever it was to shut up, when he was met with familiar violet eyes and the grin of the cat who caught the canary. That is, if by "canary" you mean "Russia", by "caught" you meant "found", and by "canary" you meant "sexy boyfriend in the woods bending down with his ass in the air so invitingly. Then yes, he was definitely the cat who caught the canary.

"Russia, what the hell! You're supposed to be on a plane halfway home by now!" He cried, forgetting his glasses and the teasing comment in his eagerness to tackle the Russian in a hug. The taller man took it well, though, and didn't even grunt when the blonde practically barreled into him. He merely chuckled and wrapped an arm around his lover, the other hand reachingi nto his pocket and drawing something out.

"I was in the airport about to leave when I found these. I could not leave without giving them back, da?" He told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "And I could not leave without seeing you one more time." He whispered, less teasing and more truthful. America blushed and reached for the glasses, only to have them yanked back.

"Ah, ah, ah, what will you give me for them?" Russia asked, the devious glint in his eye betraying the innocent smile. But Russia was like that, always hiding what he truly felt under a happy smile. It was part of the creep factor, but also something America loved about him. Because if you got passed the smile and just looked at his eyes you would see. And the things he was seeing in those eyes now? Oh he liked those things _very_ much.

"A kiss?" He suggested, puckering his lips comically and crossing his eyes.

"No, not a kiss. Your kisses are very lovely, but this is a valuable bargaining chip. I would not give it up for merely a kiss." He chuckled, placing the glasses on his own face. He copied the face America had made, sticking his tongue out as well. He looked so ridiculous America had to laugh, reaching for the glasses. His hand was playfully snatched away, brought up to warm, dry lips instead. The look Russia gave him as he planted a kiss on the inside of his wrist sent shivers up his spine.

"You want sex?" He pouted, really getting tired of this game. If Russia wanted something, all he really had to do was ask. Within reason, of course. He wouldn't give away government secrets or anything. But other than the obvious no-no's, he was pretty much game.

"No, dorogoy. What I have in mind is much more innocent, though knowing the two of us it will probably still end in the bedroom." He laughed, taking off the glasses and leaning in to steak a kiss. "I would like you to go on a date with me. A real one."

America blinked for a second before it sank in and the blush started firing up his cheeks. A real date? Like...with flowers and dinner and stuff? And out in public, too, probably. It almost sounded too nice to be what Russia really wanted. Even after the Cold War had ended and they'd been on friendlier and friendlier terms, he was still so used to having to watch his back. But the last week...that couldn't all have just been an act to get him to let his guard down, could it? No, he was certain that Russia had feelings for him, too. So he nodded and grinned at the larger man. "Sure thing, dude."

Russia handed him back his glasses, touch lingering as he removed his hand. "Good. Then I will be picking you up at 8pm after the next world meeting in my country. Please dress nicely, Amerika. I love you, but I will not be seen in a restaurant with a man in jeans and a tshirt." He teased, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was soft and oh, so bittersweet. It was like saying goodbye all over again. And, in an essence, it _was_ their goodbye. Because almost as soon as Russia had come he was gone again, leaving America alone in the snow. But there was a promise in that kiss. _I am leaving you now, but I will be back. I will always come back for you._

"He said he loves me..." America whispered in awe to no one as the snow started to fall all around him.

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There you go! Now I have done 3 out of the 4 prompts and I feel unfulfilled because I want to do the damn date but for fuck's sake we're out of prompts and doing it as a standalone could be seen as lame. I don't want people to think I'm lame so soon after joining the community mommy! I'm already afraid that you guys are mad at me for posting so much stuff OTL

Another reason this is so bad and the next chapter of my other fic is so late is because I have Russian and College induced migraines. I'm trying to get my application to OU lined up and learning Russian online.

is really cool. Not only do you get lessons and grammar (in French, Spanish, and German, but not Russian. I'm not sure about Italian or Portugese) you also get to chat with people who are native speakers of the language you're trying to learn. They also give you writing excersizes, unlike traditional online learning classes, which are graded by fellow members. The catch? The entire Russian program is in Cyrillic. But that's ok, because they also give you a tool for learning the alphabet!

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